


Like a Moth to the Flame

by odd_for_sods



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: First Time, Fist Fight, M/M, Memories of Rape in Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odd_for_sods/pseuds/odd_for_sods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night on the town goes in an unexpected direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Moth to the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> First published in Diverse Doings 6 edited by Kathy Agel.
> 
> Nominated for a Stiffie Award in Miscellaneous Fandoms: Non Sci Fi section.

Tired white lights intermittently lit up the stale pall of cigarette smoke as 70's disco music throbbed endlessly, inane lyrics boring the torpid audience. A dull-eyed woman, naked but for a string thong and glitter dusted silicon, gyrated grotesquely against a metal pole on the small stage. Vinnie Terranova took another sip of his watered-down beer and picked nervously at the dish of peanuts on the table. This place wasn't Sonny Steelgrave's style at all. Thankfully, Sonny had chosen a table near the back of the bar for them and their dates, secluded slightly from the other patrons gathered round the main entertainment. He'd been surprised when Sonny had suggested they come here but his boss was clearly in no mood for objections, so he had kept his mouth shut.

In his simply-cut white suit, Sonny stood out like a debutante at a whorehouse. Vinnie couldn't help but admire his boss' nerve, stepping with ease between diverse worlds; one minute a suavely considerate legitimate businessman, the next a vicious hood cold-bloodedly executing those who stood between him and his desires. All of it handled with a debonair touch and a killer smile. 

Just then, Sonny slouched back in his chair and stared at Vinnie, conspicuously ignoring his companion who sat between them. Vinnie's mouth went dry and he held his breath. Sonny's eyes were dark and unfathomable, his jaw stiff, restraining any show of emotion, the hard line of his mouth set against revelation. God, what was his boss thinking? Frantically, he ran through recent events in search of any hint as to what was going on in Sonny's head. Had he tripped up, said or done something that had alerted Sonny to his true identity?

"You don't look happy Vinnie," Sonny stated as he fiddled with his cuffs, his eyes challenging, now hooded with suspicion.

Exasperated, Vinnie just shrugged, glanced at the dancer and gulped down another mouthful of beer. Unerringly his gaze returned to Sonny, he couldn't keep his eyes away from the hypnotic draw of the other man's presence.

"I thought you'd like this place?"

"I might be cheap but I ain't this cheap, Sonny." Loosening his collar, Vinnie downed the rest of his drink. Casually, he put his arm around his date's shoulders, forced himself to relax back into his seat and focused his attention on the young woman. He didn't doubt that Sonny's eyes were still on him as his boss calculated his next move. 

"Fine." Sonny stood, unfolded a roll of bills and tossed a couple on the table. "Ladies, for your trouble." At the touch of a palm against his back a suddenly nervous tension radiated from Sonny's body to his own. Vinnie stood, unable to resist his boss's whim. Sonny nodded to the exit. "Let's go!"

****

The street, wet after a recent rain, was deserted, quiet but for the occasional far-off slam of a car door and the muted roar of a gunned engine. 

"What's gotten into you?" Vinnie asked as they stood on the curb beside the limousine. An uncomfortable knot of tension took hold in his belly and he was uncertain as to how to shake it.

"What?" Sonny, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched, turned to face him.

"Our dates? That's no way to treat…." 

"They know the score and you and I have business to take care of." Sonny straightened and officiously fixed the knot of his tie.

"What business?" Vinnie stood his ground, met the hard probing stare directly.

"Business that can't wait any longer."

The knot tightened. He hated the sensation. Its only redeeming feature, he supposed, was that it was a sure sign that he was still alive and still sane enough to appreciate the peril he was in. Sonny's recent erratic mood swings jittered him against the edge of sanity with alarming frequency. Some days he wondered who he really was, a Wiseguy killing on Sonny Steelgrave's orders or a Federal Agent out to get the bad guys. Much of the time he didn't feel like either, lost in limbo, disconnected from the mundane choices of everyday life, falling down a rabbit hole after Alice. What had once seemed like the perfect job, bringing down the Steelgrave family, loosening the mob's grip on his old neighbourhood, had become a nightmare. Who knew that he would develop such a rapport with his primary target. 

Despite the litany of evil acts that Sonny had perpetrated, acts that he would have to attest to witnessing, Vinnie could not keep a righteous anger burning continually bright. Suffused with raw masculine power, Sonny was like an illicit drug, whose taste he continually craved when Sonny was absent, sated only when he was in close quarters to the source. In corresponding abundance was a charismatic charm. Few were immune. His reports to McPike were becoming less and less honest as he struggled to hide his deepening dependence.

More frighteningly, the fascination appeared to be mutual. Sid Royce's continual harping about his meteoric rise from busboy to right hand man had failed to dent Sonny's faith. Until now, that was. For the last few days Sonny had been more distant than usual. Faster to anger and rudely curt in the most unexpected circumstances. Others had noticed. The sharks were beginning to circle. They scented blood in the water. He prayed he hadn't betrayed himself. 

Extracting the car's keys from his pocket, Vinnie opened the door for Sonny. Shielded behind it, he waited. Sonny just stared at the open door, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. Contemplating his next move, Vinnie supposed.

"Sonny?" Vinnie prodded.

Without looking at him, Sonny said, "Let's go to the gym."

"But it'll be closed by now," Vinnie objected, "no one will be there."

Sonny turned his head and said, quietly, "Exactly."

****

An explosion of bare-knuckled fury came after him and all Vinnie could do was withstand the storm with a defensive stance. Whatever demons Sonny Steelgrave was battling, he was exorcising them on Vinnie Terranova's body. Punches battered him as Sonny relentlessly pursued him around the ring, spewing forth vile invective as Vinnie parried the confrontation as best he could. 

"Fight, you fucking pussy faggot! Fight!" Sonny spat.

Stung, finally, too close to home, Vinnie capitulated to the taunt, stood his ground and responded in kind. He opened himself to a reservoir of pent-up frustration and devoured the rancid remains of his prison years. A white-hot anger, fed on the rancor, grew within and obliterated all restraint. Sonny, unaware, fought on through the barrage that began to rain down on him.

Vinnie's world constricted to this single square of canvas. His arms, leaden with tiredness, barely protected him. His right eye swollen, blood obscured his vision. His concentration wavered and he lost track of Sonny's right hand until it glanced across the side of his face. Too late, he twisted away from the follow through. Unbalanced by the blow, he fell back and landed with a hard thud on the field of battle. Towering astride him, Sonny stood, poised to continue, fists raised, apparently willing to beat him right into the ground where he lay.

"Sonny!" Vinnie's protest pierced Sonny's grim determination. He took a step back and relaxed his guard. With a glance at his sweat and blood soaked fists, Sonny returned, surprised, to the here and now. He uncurled his hands, turned away and leant against the ropes.

"You ever feel like the whole world's against you, Vinnie? That whatever you do fate's going to step in and throw you a curveball?"

"All the time, Sonny."

"Yeah, bet you do." Sonny sounded almost wistful. He turned and offered Vinnie his hand; grabbing it, Vinnie hauled himself up.

"You okay?" Vinnie asked, puzzled.

"Don't worry about it, Vinnie." Sonny playfully landed a one-two combination on his chest.

"Great," Vinnie replied ironically.

Unpredictable as ever, Sonny appeared ice-cool and in control once more. Whatever had disturbed him appeared to have been resolved. Vinnie just wished he didn't have to be the punching bag on which Sonny excised his difficulties. He climbed out of the ring and followed Sonny to the showers.

****

The hot water spiked hard on Vinnie's skin. Like a good massage, it worked at his tired shoulder muscles, coaxing them looser, washing away the remnant traces of the fight. He leant back and let the blasting stream hammer on the back of his skull, drowning out his conscious mind, absolving him momentarily of worry and caution. No need to calculate with precision every move and facial expression for a few precious moments. He could let the mask slip, be himself, Vinnie Terranova, a good kid, his mother's son.

A hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. God, no! Not again. Panic uncurled in the pit of his stomach, fed its companion, fear, and released it from its restraints. Unreined, it steamed forth, exacting its toll upon his body. Instinctively, he pulled away, flattened his back against the tile wall and raised his arms defensively. 

"Vinnie! Vinnie! It's just me. Calm down." Sonny's face came close to his, eyes full of surprise, questions surfacing. A hand soothingly stroked his shoulder, quieting him as though he were a skittish mustang, terrified of being broken.

"Sorry," Vinnie muttered, his head hanging as he fought to restore the barriers that protected him from the past.

"What happened?" A voice, unexpectedly soft and tender, broke through and caught him off guard.

"Eh?" Vinnie dodged.

"Vinnie?" Sonny's breath brushed his cheek as arms cradled him gently. "Tell me. Please?"

"Is that an order, Sonny?" Vinnie choked as he shoved ineffectively at Sonny, once more seeking to evade the truth. Sonny's arms tightened, refused to let him escape, forced him to face reality. 

Unrelenting.

"So you wanna know what happened?" he spat back bitterly.

"Yes." Sonny's calm soothed his soul, reached deep within him and offered him a place of solace. The grip on his arm loosened slightly and Sonny stood back a step giving him room.

In a quiet, emotionless voice Vinnie recited, as if for the record, "There were three of them. I was careless. They jumped me in the showers. I fought as hard as I could but I didn't stand a chance. No one came to help me. I was alone and they took what they wanted."

Fleeting sensations from those terrifying ten minutes welled up from some dark crevice within him in short sharp bursts. The bite of a razor blade against his throat. The rupturing slice of violation from behind. The stench of a sweat-slicked groin, pressed suffocatingly against his face, as one of them neared completion. The far-off laugh of guards waiting for them to be done. The clench of a fist jerking him off as he was sodomised again. The humiliation of his own orgasm.

He'd dealt with it all a year ago, buried the memories deep within, hoped to make them a forgotten footnote to a successful undercover career. A private penance to be borne for past mistakes. The wrath of an angry God for being too prideful, too ... too something. Quietly he added, "I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die." 

Hate swelled up, filled him to the brim once more. Fed his anger. Anger at the humiliation of being forced to recount those events. "So what are you going to do now, Sonny?" His self-control was slipping away from him as he teetered on the edge of hysteria. "Your hard man's not much of a man is he?" He bit hard on his lip and stared defiantly at his boss.

"Vinnie." All tenderness. It stung more than a well-aimed kick to the gut.

"Vinnie! You don't have to hide the truth from me." Forcefully, this time, an order to pull himself together. 

He met Steelgrave's gaze. Nothing but friendship and admiration reflected back. Suspicion had been banished.

"Don't worry I'm not going to fall apart on you." The words tasted good. He believed them too. His inner strength flowed back. He'd experienced all the depraved depths that hell could inflict and survived. He could face whatever this lousy undercover operation threw at him. There wasn't anything that Sonny could do to him that would hurt him worse than he had been hurt that night. 

Sonny smiled and nodded. After a moment's reflection Sonny offered, "Tell me their names and I'll make the bastards dead. Personally."

"You'll make them…." Vinnie laughed, hard and loud.

"Yeah! You like the sound of that?" Sonny grinned broadly.

Vinnie nodded. "Yeah! I like the sound of that."

"I still respect you Vinnie." After a pause Sonny quietly added, "I still want you." 

Dry-mouthed as he comprehended the intonation, Vinnie swallowed hard. "I…." Tension was back but it was brick-hot now, settling lower in his body. This terrain was infinitely more dangerous. A battle had begun before he'd even realised it. The foe had already gained ground and tactical advantage. A prize was up for grabs and he wasn't sure that he wanted to defend it.

"I know you want me too."

The surety in Sonny's voice drew a cold shiver through Vinnie's soul. Could Sonny really read that in him, a secret buried so deep he had barely realised it himself? Or, perhaps, was it his boss' natural self-confidence projecting what he wanted? He prayed that it was the latter. Hell, he hadn't even told his brother about these secretly felt longings. Not even in the confessional. He worried at the conundrum, tried to weigh the consequences of rejecting Sonny's overture when his indecision was made mute. Mouth smothered mouth. Sonny waged a full frontal assault with his tongue, battling Vinnie's rapidly capitulating defenses until his lips parted. Vinnie welcomed the invader in sweet, painful, surrender as his blood sang triumphantly with desire, smothering the tender objections of his battered body. Sonny devoured his every breath, sucking all logical thought from him, leaving him only lust and the prospect of ecstasy.

"God, you are beautiful," Sonny groaned into his mouth as his hands explored, unopposed, every inch of Vinnie's torso. His erect cock rubbed casually against Vinnie's.

Warmth flooded Vinnie, rippling out from his groin as his cock hardened. Fingertips flicked across his nipples and teased them to aching hardness. 

Grinning, Sonny broke the kiss and preened like a resplendent peacock. "I guess you like me too." He grasped Vinnie's cock and stroked it confidently watching as desire flared up in Vinnie's eyes.

"No ... don't…!" Vinnie wrapped his hand around Sonny's staying its motion. His body yearned for the heat but he had to try and resist, put up some sort of fight before he surrendered and dived into the abyss. The darkness was so appealing. No conscience, no guilt, just pure sensual pleasure. His boss had it all and he wanted to taste everything Sonny had to offer. 

His cock, head weeping, ached as Sonny swept it with his thumb and whispered, "I think I should help you with this." Kneeling before Vinnie, Sonny softly kissed the head, eliciting a moan from deep within Vinnie's chest. Swallowing hard, Vinnie weakly protested, "You ... don't ... need to do ... that."

"I know," his boss reassured him.

Vinnie stared down into Sonny's upturned face. Triumph was writ large, he was ready to take his prize. His tongue teased at the ridge framing the cock's head.

Vinnie knew he was lost. 

Heat enveloped him, swaddled him in wet pulsing pressure. Unable to resist, he bucked without restraint. A giddy, illicit pleasure swept through him as he fucked Sonny Steelgrave's mouth. Fucked the bastard whose existence he hated. Fucked the hood who killed without remorse. Fucked a man he lusted after, wanted more than any other person on earth. Dissolved, time after time, encouraged by a vise-like suction, until completion exploded through him and his seed was planted in enemy territory.

Eyes closed, back to the tile, he calmed, returned to the moment. Sonny stood and nuzzled at his neck then kissed him with a frank and owning mouth.

"You do that for all your men?" Vinnie joked. Unconsciously, his hand skittered across Sonny's lean torso, down to the other man's erection.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Sonny returned.

"Hey, hey Sonny, I only meant…."

An ironic grin broadened Sonny's lips. "Calm down Vinnie. Don't take me so seriously."

"Sorry."

"Vinnie, Vinnie, where've you been all my life? You're it man, the whole package."

Vinnie's hand travelled faster. 

Distracted, Sonny moaned, "Mmmm ... that feels good." Sonny's eyes, black with lust, smiled back at him hypnotically with all the self-satisfaction of a victorious predator.

Their eyes locked as Vinnie's hand moved. Unwavering in his dedication, he teased. Speeding. Slowing. Tormenting. Until, finally, Sonny surrendered and came. Warm spurts of semen flooded over his hand as Sonny's eyes burnt into him, searing their souls into one. Their pact complete. In that moment he was Sonny's, body and soul.

****

After wiping condensation from the mirror, Sonny flamboyantly knotted his tie. Casually, he asked, "Drink? At my place, tomorrow night?"

As he watched the stranger's flushed, bruised face staring back at him in the mirror, Vinnie nodded.

Patting Vinnie on the back, Sonny winked. "Now you really are my right hand man." Laughing at his own joke, Sonny ordered, "Drive me home, Vinnie," dropping easily back into the everyday normality of their relationship.

Although he was relieved at having survived another round, a knot of worry still lurked in the pit of Vinnie's stomach. He feared that he would not be able to complete his assignment. That all his efforts would be wasted because he'd gotten too close to Sonny. A confusion of feelings warred within. A tart revulsion at the acts of a violent thug struggled with a creeping admiration for Sonny's loyalty and magnanimity to those he considered under his protection.

The warmth of the other man's affection and trust were wearing away at him, stifling his negative inclinations, encouraging a friendship that deepened with each day as they faced an angry world together. Cohorts in the battle to survive.

Could he sell Sonny out, betray the man who was now his lover? 

Only time would tell.


End file.
